


Shoulder Your Burden

by TechnicolorGhost



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hand Jobs, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, basically I beat anakin up and let Obi-Wan fix it, more smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicolorGhost/pseuds/TechnicolorGhost
Summary: “He wasn’t permitted to form attachments and he damn sure wasn’t permitted to form them to his master.He’s only trying to placate me, keep me calm. He thinks I’m reckless, foolish, dangerous, he thought to himself.He missed spending day in and day out with his master.”———————After a disastrous battle that resulted in heavy loss of men, Anakin blames himself. Obi-Wan searches for a way to shoulder part of the burden.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 169





	1. War

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, I’m at it again!  
> I got a prompt that was for Obikin and what started out as a cute drabble turned into an angsty, multiple chapter monstrosity. I hope you’ll stay along for the ride. Part one here is mostly fluff and angst. Read: I beat up Anakin and let Obi-Wan fix it. Smut to come in later chapters though. Enjoy!

It had been a particularly rotten day, even for war. 

The 501st and the 212th had been deployed together to a Separatist stronghold though, which meant Obi-Wan and Anakin would be commanding alongside one another. 

The council typically tried to avoid situations like this, not only because in the tragic and unlikely event that both units were wiped out, they would lose some of their best men and potentially two of their best generals, but also because anyone that had spent more than fifteen minutes in a room together with Obi-Wan and Anakin was readily privy to the fact that they tended attract chaos and misadventures. 

The fact remained, however, that they were two of the Republic’s cleverest, and had navigated themselves out of dozens of ostensibly no-win scenarios in the past, suffering only minor casualties. 

Not to mention that this mission would require a degree of ace flying that not many in the galaxy were capable of, and the two men had years of that under their belts. 

Due to a miscalculation, or bit of bad information from an informant, they had found themselves in a Separatist ambush today. 

And due to an honest mistake and misjudgment on Anakin’s part, they had lost a lot of men. This settled heavy in Anakins stomach like duracrete. The guilt seeped into every fiber of his being. He’d been foolish and now men were dead. 

He had thought that splitting the units and having Obi-Wan’s men ambush from behind and drive the droids into a narrow canyon so they could be picked off easily would be the best move. What their informant hadn’t told them, was that there were already droids waiting in the valley to ambush THEM, and what he had effectively done was corner his men and send them into a slaughter. Their plan had been completely reversed on them, and now the canyon was an abattoir reeking of death, and it was _his_ fault. 

The battlefield was permeated with the stench of blood and ozone, and spent blaster fire, and Anakin was steadily becoming overwhelmed. The guilt settled in his stomach along with the heavy stench of death suffered due to his mistakes overcame him. He leaned against a large boulder and wretched, becoming sick. 

He wiped his mouth, jumping and weaving over the bodies of fallen clones and droids, trying his best to make it through the narrow canyon alive. 

He was steadily being swarmed by battle droids when he saw the transport coming in for a landing at about 80 yards out. 

Naturally, once again, Obi-Wan was bailing him out. 

He picked up pace, jumping over debris and bodies, scanning for survivors. 

He spotted a clone struggling to get out from under a piece of ruined machinery, a tank he thought. 

He stopped, ducking to avoid blaster fire, and attempted to force push it off the soldier. 

A bolt grazed his hand, flames of pain immediately licking his palm all the way up to his shoulder. 

He let a frustrated growl of pain, concentration broken momentarily. 

“Leave me, sir! There’s too many.”

Anakin shook his head stubbornly, still trying to move the debris. 

“No! You’re making it out of here with me.”

The clone shook his head, gesturing to his ruined legs pinned beneath the hunk of metal. 

“No sir, I can’t walk. It’s been a pleasure serving, General Skywalker.”

“No, Dozer,” Anakin grit out through the pain.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s force signature tugging at his. 

He deflected a rain of blaster bolts with his saber, still not willing to give up on Dozer. 

Just then, a droid lobbed a grenade that landed squarely between the two of them. Anakin reeled back instinctively, placing enough distance between him and the explosive to avoid being filled with shrapnel. 

“Dozer!” 

Anakin felt himself then being pulled backwards into the transport, along with the meager few clones that had managed to survive the attack. 

“No!” He thrashed, trying to dive out of the transport back into the battlefield.

**_Stop_ ** _!_ **_Anakin we have to go._ **

He wrenched his arm free of whoever had a hold of him, and watched helpless as the transport doors closed. He took an unsteady breath watching from the view port, bringing a shaking hand up to wipe the blood and sweat from his brow. He stayed there for a moment, trying to push the nauseous guilt from his stomach and the vertigo from his head. His ears rung. 

He felt the familiar warm hum of his masters force presence before he felt the hand on his shoulder. 

“We received bad information,” Obi-Wan began, immediately absolving Anakin from any responsibility or guilt before he’d even appealed for it. It made him mad. 

Anakin shook his head, not looking at his master. 

“Rex and Hardcase make it out?” He asked darkly, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said quietly. 

“Cody?”

“And Waxer, Boil, and Trapper. All accounted for.”

“At least some of them made it out,” he growled darkly, chewing the inside of his cheek,

“Where’s Ahsoka?”

“Medbay, but she’s fi-“

Anakin had already turned on his heel to stride towards Medical to check on his young padawan. She shouldn’t have even been on this mission, and because of him, she could’ve been killed. They could’ve _all_ been killed. 

He ignore the pain singing in his own hand, and pushed forward as he strode through the medbay doors that hissed open in front of him. 

“Ahsoka?”

his voice was firmer than he intended, laced with the guilt and panic of having more casualties on his hands. 

“Over here, Master,” the tired yet evergreenly cheerful voice of his student resounded from the far corner of the medbay where she was being worked on by a diligent medical droid. 

“You’re hurt,” he said firmly, eyebrows knitting together as he sat next to her on the cot. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, nodding to the injured hand the med droid was busy with. 

“Just a couple of broken fingers, Master. I’ve had worse.”

His battle wearied padawan didn’t even acknowledge he blaster burns on her sides or the superficial cut above her brow. He cursed himself for setting a bad example and ignoring injury, and as he considered his, his own injuries thrummed warmly, reminding him he still needed to attend to his wounds. 

“You’re staying at the temple until you’re healed,” he started, not meeting her eye until she issued a whine of protest. 

“But Master-“ 

“Ahsoka,” he warned

She quieted, looking down at her wounds. 

“And anyways,” he continued, “after today I imagine the whole 501st and 212th will be grounded for awhile. At least until we can heal, and figure out if we’ve got a bad informant or a turncoat on our hands. You need the rest anyways,” he said offering a dull smile, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“Yes, Master,” she agreed, offering a similar weak smile. 

Anakin stood and strode from the medbay, neglecting to mention his own injuries to the medical droid. 

—————

Anakin found himself standing in front of the viewport, cradling his injured hand in his mechano-hand. 

Since he had been foolish enough to neglect to seek attention from the med droids when they were on the Jedi Cruiser _or_ the clone transport, he figured he would just grit through it and handle it himself when the city transport got them to the temple. 

Anakin felt Obi-Wan tentatively approach to take a place next to him at the viewport. The two were quiet for a moment, content to merely be in one another’s presence. Their force bond hummed like a live wire between them. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan could feel how taut and raw his nerves were, and it made him squirm. He hated feeling weak and emotionally compromised. 

“You’re injured,” Obi-Wan stated after a time. 

“I’m alright,” Anakin grit through his teeth. 

Obi-Wan drew nearer, half expecting Anakin to hiss at him like a feral cat. 

  
  


“Let me see.”

“No.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, exasperated, already going for the med kit. 

“I’m fine, Master.”

“Sit still,” Obi-Wan huffed, dragging the med kit out. 

Pain pulsed through Anakin’s hand, making the ends of his fingertips sing with a dull throbbing each time his heartbeat roared in his chest. The gash in his palm was deep, but not enough to need stitches, he thought. It was ugly and singed around the edges, and it _would_ scar. 

Obi-Wan took his hand gingerly, and Anakin gasped at the contact. 

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed in concern, guilt dancing darkly in his eyes as he brushed an unspoken apology against their force bond. 

Anakin resisted, maintaining a tight clamp on his mental walls. His Master couldn’t know the gasp was simply in response to be handled so gently by him. Anakin had scarcely felt touch that wasn’t hand to hand combat or a rough grip on the shoulder from one of the clones in months. He was a man starved, and he ached. 

“Sorry, dear one, I know-“ 

A sharp hiss through his teeth that _was_ in response to his pain echoed through the ship as Obi-Wan started with cleaning and dressing the wound. 

He would flick his eyes up to meet Anakin’s every so often, trying to gauge for pain, but Anakin was looking at the floor, the ceiling, out the viewports, anywhere but the deep empathetic pools of Obi-Wan’s eyes. 

Obi-Wan worked diligently and delicately, putting concerted effort into causing the younger man as little pain as was possible when addressing a wound like this. It wasn’t as bad as either of them had originally feared. It would hurt for several days, but Anakin had had worse, and he figured he’d have forgotten he even hurt it within three or four weeks. It would scar, though. 

He tapped his thigh, busying his mind with charts, timelines for healing, anything to keep his mind and eyes off of the way his masters eyes pierced into the very core of his being. 

They were too deep, and too kind, and they made him feel like he was suffocating. He didn’t deserve the worry and care the man handled him with. It nearly made him angry. He absolutely couldn’t look at him now though, not with the way the concern and guilt and worry washed over him through their force bond. It made him feel safe, but it also made him feel small, like a child. He could handle himself. He wasn’t some clumsy youngling who needed all his little wounds dressed. 

He tried to push back cheap reassurances, but Obi-Wan’s energy was so overpowering. 

“I’m fine, Master,” he finally managed, his voice thankfully more steadfast and sturdy than he thought he would be able to manage. 

“Something troubles you,” he posited softly, finishing work on bandaging his hand. 

Anakin shook his head. 

Obi-Wan sighed, and Anakin felt a tinge of sadness seep into their force bond before his master clamped down on his emotions. 

Obi-Wan patted the newly bandaged hand, letting his hand linger just a moment, a gentle gesture that made Anakin’s stomach flutter. 

“All fixed up, dear one. Do try not to lose this hand too.”

**_I’m only teasing._ **

Anakin rolled his eyes, allowing himself a small smile. 

**_I know_ ** **.**

They weren’t so much words as, impressions of feelings that...felt like words. It was hard to explain to a non force user, but Anakin imagined it was much like how animals communicated. With impressions rather than words. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes lingered on Anakin for a moment, hoping he would air whatever ailed him. 

Anakin looked at the floor, chewing his cheek. 

“Men died today, Master. Because of me.”

Obi-Wan sighed, stroking his beard contemplatively. 

“Men died today, because we are at war, Anakin.”

“But ultimately I made the decision. I’m responsible for my men and today-“

he grit his teeth, jaw working against the overdue tears pooling in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the tirade of his feelings crashing over him. 

Obi-Wan’s presence brushed against his mind, caressing him warmly like he had since he was a child. It was gold, and warm, and gentle. 

**_Stop_ ** _._

Anakin pleaded. The kindness overwhelmed him, and crying right now would be _mortifying._

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. 

“You cannot let the horrors of a whole war you did not start rest on your shoulders, padawan,”

Obi-Wan hummed softly, his thumb gently and subtly rubbing reassuring circles Anakin’s shoulder. It felt like a hot poker, in the best way. 

Electricity zipped through his body at the touch, but he grit his teeth against it. 

“I’m not your padawan-“ he spat. 

“Still you call me Master,” Obi-Wan retorted, eyes dancing with hopefulness that Anakin would let his shields down, even for a moment. 

Anakin chewed his cheek, finally turning to meet his former master’s eye for what felt like the first time all day. 

Obi-Wan was radiant. It felt like Anakin could _see_ the warmth he produced rolling off him in waves. He was long suffering, so _patient._ He was _beautiful_. Why did he continue to be so patient with him, Anakin wondered. 

**_I’m here_ ** _._

The phrase sang against their force bond as Anakin placed his forehead on the older man’s shoulder, allowing Obi-Wan to pull him in for a brief embrace. 

Energy thrummed between them, and Anakin felt pinpricks of electricity everywhere their skin touched. 

Why did he feel like this? He was sure he hadn’t always. He’d spent long years alongside Obi-Wan, sometimes having no other companions. So why now did he suddenly feel exhilarated each time their skin touched? 

Thinking back on it actually, he had always harbored a deep affection for the older man that he assumed all padawans had for their masters. That or, it was his damn tendency to be over emotional. He could never tell if his emotions were bigger and heavier than other Jedi, or if he was just exceptionally bad at controlling them.

Obi-Wan seemed so steadfast, not even radiating with the tremendous grief Anakin knew he must have felt after he lost his master and was _immediately_ stuck with Anakin. Anakin had wept, and he’d only known Qui-Gon a short time. Master Kenobi had remained with a stiff upper lip in those days, serious but not broken, and he certainly didn’t let on that he was hurting. Anakin remembered how it had made him mad, that Obi-Wan could be so unfeeling and unperturbed by death. But he grew to envy that trait over the years. 

These thoughts zapped through his mind at light speed, neurons firing and firing again, grasping at missed cogs like a broken droid, as he tried to sort out what exactly hummed in his stomach. If only he could tinker on his brain the way he could tinker on speeders and droids. 

“You’re going to the medbay and getting pain pills and antibiotics when we land.” Obi-Wan’s voice seemed to pull him back into his body, grounding him, as it always did. 

Anakin groaned, rolling his eyes, pulling away to gather his things and prepare for landing. 

“And bacta spray!” Obi-Wan called after him. 

———————-

Anakin settled himself into his quarters at the Temple. As he had predicted, the council had grounded both their units for three weeks until they could get to the bottom of what was going on with their informant. Ahsoka, had been granted a full week off. Anakin had found out later that she had been solely responsible for making sure Rex made it out alive, and he figured she deserved the full THREE weeks off. But the council insisted she upkeep her training. Sometimes it felt as though Ahsoka ought to be training _him._

Anakin had been expecting a verbal thrashing from the council. He loathed going to council meetings. It made him feel so examined, so naked.

They _had_ sort of thrashed him, but not worse than he was used to. So he was his regular level of sour and displeased upon returning to his quarters. He felt like he’d been sent to his room to think about what he’d done. And think about it, he did. It was all he could think about. 

Obi-Wan had offered to swing by and split some Ruby Bliels with him later, and after mulling it over for a moment he’d decided to oblige. 

Anakin knew that Obi-Wan knew they were his favorite, and only offered when he knew Anakin was in his head and really suffering. It made Anakin feel naked and embarrassed to know his old master had such a good read on him, but from time to time he obliged the older Jedi and allowed him to extend the kind gesture. 

Still, Anakin was nearly surprised when the soft knocks resounded on his door. He couldn’t be bothered to get up from his spot on the floor where he was meditating, so he flicked his wrist and let the force do the work of opening the door. 

“Inappropriate use of the for-“ Obi-Wan’s steady voice hummed from the door way. Anakin didn’t turn to him. 

“I know, I know.” Anakin cut him off good naturedly, waving him off. 

Anakin remained there for a time, focusing on his breathing. He could hear the older Jedi rummaging around in the kitchen, no doubt already set to work whipping up those Ruby Bliels. Anakin smiled at that, humming a contented sigh. 

“Anakin, are these droid parts in the _sink?_ You can’t get mech grease in the drain, you’ll wreck the plumbing in the _whole_ temple.”

Anakin could hear metallic clatter of the parts being moved and he chuckled to himself. 

“Don’t touch my stuff!”

He called, eyes still closed. He really wasn’t meditating anymore, as much as stilling his mind and enjoying the banter. 

He could hear Obi-Wan sigh dramatically from the kitchen and he stifled a laugh. 

He stretched his arms out high above him and rolled his shoulders, attempting to relax out all the knots he’d developed from the weeks of hard combat. 

Obi-Wan rounded the corner with drinks just then, taking a seat next to him on the floor, setting their drinks on the low table. 

Anakin nodded appreciatively, taking a sip from his drink, and looking out through the large window. 

The room was thick with knowing silence. 

“We don’t have to talk about what happened today…” Obi-Wan began after a time, 

“Good,” Anakin said curtly, taking another sip, 

“...but I know that it troubles you.”

Anakin drew his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing it pensively for a moment. 

Images from the days events bombarded his mind, his men dying, the blaster fire, the _smell_ , Maker, the smell that had made him sick earlier, Dozer, leaving Dozer, he couldn’t save Dozer-

“I might as well have killed them myself,” he croaked, voice higher and more reedy than he had intended. He shook his head and cleared his throat, trying to quiet the drumming of his heart beat in his ears. 

He turned his face away, staring out the broad window again. 

“How do you think _I_ feel? I did the same thing! I’ve made _countless_ mistakes! My men died too,” Obi-Wan reached, trying desperately to appeal to his former student in any way he could. 

“It’s different,” he spat, disheartened to find his lip quivering. 

“How is it different?” Obi-Wan sounded incredulous now, he always thought Anakin was so ridiculous. 

Anakin's cheeks burned as he turned to face his master. 

“The council _knows_ you're a capable Jedi master! The view me as an overgrown youngling,” he snapped bitterly, mortified as a tear tracked its way down his cheek. 

“Anakin, they would’ve never given you a command if they didn’t think you capable, be reasonable-“

“I’m so unreasonable, aren’t I, Master?” he stood now, turning away from Obi-Wan,

“So unreasonable, I caused half my men to _die.”_

He choked back a half sob, swallowing thickly, blinking as tears ran down his face. Why was he _like_ this? Why did things cause him to become unglued and weep in front of his master this way? Shame burned deep in his belly and his cheeks flushed vividly. 

“Anakin-“

“Stop.”

**_Please_ ** _._

Obi-Wan was reaching, pushing feelings of acceptance, support, through their force bond. 

Anakin shook his head, suffering against the urge to sob into his elbow. 

He heard Obi-Wan get to his feet but he made no move to turn to him, shame and embarrassment freezing him to his spot in front of the window.

He felt thin and fragile, like winter’s first ice, as though at any moment, any little thing could shatter him. 

The lights of transports and speeders flashed vividly outside, and Anakin wondered numbly if anyone was looking in at him coming undone in his living room. He tried to let himself be hypnotized by the vibrant colors out on the street outside but he couldn’t think of anything except screams, the burnt flesh, the smell-

Obi-Wan placed a firm hand on his shoulder, turning him to face him. 

Anakin resisted at first, trying to shrug out of the grip, but his master rubbed reassuring circles into his shoulder, like he had earlier, and it made his knees wobble. His heart skipped, and another silent tear tracked itself down his cheek. 

He slid to the floor, collapsing on his knees. 

Obi-Wan followed, sitting on the floor next to him, pulling Anakin’s head to his chest. 

Anakin came completely undone, his wails muffled by Obi-Wan robes. 

The older man brought a hand to his hair, soothingly picking through the curls as Anakin cried. 

He shushed him, rubbing wide circles onto his back. 

**_I’m sorry, Master, sorry sorry sorry_ **

**_Shh. What are you sorry for? Hush._ **

**_Couldn’t save them. Couldn’t help them couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t_ **

“Dozer,” Anakin choked out, swallowing thickly against the ragged breaths he was sucking in like a man half drowned. 

“I know, dear one, shh,” Obi-Wan said miserably, remembering fondly the times Dozer had assisted Anakin in various mischief and pranks. They weren’t meant to have favorites, but Obi-Wan had long suspected that Dozer ranked amongst those Anakin most treasured. But he cared about all of his men. It was his great strength and also his hamartia, his compassion. 

Anakin had begun to compose himself, but sat sniffling, collapsed against Obi-Wan like a pile of wet laundry. 

He radiated shame and mortification, feeling totally burned out and embarrassed he’d sobbed loudly into his Master’s chest like a youngling throwing a tantrum. 

His walls were down, and he know Obi-Wan was picking up on his misery through their bond. 

“Quit that,” Obi-Wan said softly, pressing a kiss to Anakin’s temple, “you lost a friend today. You’re permitted to be upset. 

Anakin’s brain though, was short circuiting. Had Obi-Wan just kissed him? I mean, he had, but had he ever done that before? Suddenly Anakin couldn’t remember. He’d never felt like this before, so simultaneously burned out and horrified, and yet safe and cared for. And to his mortification, aroused heat thrummed low in his belly, and his stomach fluttered. 

He looked up bleary eyed at Obi-Wan, tears still sticking his eyelashes together. 

Confusion churned his brain, and he was too emotionally overstimulated to really process what was happening. 

“Did you just, kiss me, Obi-Wan?” he asked, dazed, voice raw and raspy from the tears and overexertion. 

Obi-Wan smiled bashfully, this time a flush darkening his own cheeks, still gently massaging his padawans scalp. He shrugged. 

Anakin cleared his throat, looking away, heart thrumming in his ears, a deep blush curling up his neck to his cheeks and the tops of his ears before he could even utter the words,

“Would you do it again?”

His Master obliged him, pressing another chaste kiss to his forehead and Anakin made a sound of protest, nuzzling into Obi-Wan's neck. 

“What, then?” Obi-Wan had meant to ask it humorously, if not a bit patronizingly, but his voice came out as a thin whisper. 

Anakin swallowed thickly and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s jaw, causing the older man to tense up. 

Obi-Wan cleared this throat. 

“Come on then, dear one, I think you need sleep. It’s been quite the day, hasn’t it.” 

Obi-Wan moved to stand, pulling Anakin up with him, but Anakin felt as though the entire world had just come crashing down upon his head. 

He suddenly felt cold and naked, like he’d just stepped out of the ‘fresher but his towel was across the room 

He didn’t _want_ to go to bed. He didn’t _want_ Obi-Wan to leave. 

The last thing he wanted was to be left here alone with his thoughts. 

“I won’t be able to sleep, Master,” he said, only thinly disguising his misery. He had intended to follow up the sentence with ‘stay and play a round of Dejarik with me,’ 

But Obi-Wan had opened his mouth before he got the chance, 

“I can stay with you, if you’d like.”

“ _What?”_

“I can stay...if you’d sleep better.” 

Obi-Wan was referring to his nightmares, which did tend to plague him after days like today. He hadn’t offered to stay with him while he slept since he was a young padawan, though. 

“Obi-Wan, I could never ask you to-“

“Nonsense. It’ll save you the midnight trip across the temple to come knocking on my door at an ungodly hour requesting a game of Sabacc, anyhow.”

“You’re only just down the hall, Master.”

“At any rate, I’ll be right here, if you should need a midnight game of Sabacc.”

Anakin's heart thumped and he pulled Obi-Wan in for another long embrace. 

“Thank you, Master.”

  
  



	2. Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get modestly more thirsty in this chapter. This is a still a slow burn, Reader. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Obi-Wan  _ did  _ stay with him in his apartment that night, though to Anakin’s secret chagrin, he insisted on staying on the couch. Anakin slept through the first night, mind quieted just knowing his master was in the other room. He was morose and self hating that next day, and after filling their day with sparring and saber practice in an attempt to take his mind off things, Obi-Wan offered to stay a second night. 

The fitful sleep, however, started that second night. 

Obi-Wan was awakened in the night in a cold sweat by Anakin issuing a  _ full on scream _ in his sleep. Obi-Wan rushed back to his room, half expecting to find him being eaten alive or flayed by an intruder, but instead, found the younger Jedi upright in bed with his knees pulled to his chest. 

He’d sat with him and consoled him, playing an obligatory game of Sabacc, (Anakin let him win,) making sure Anakin was drifting off to sleep before making his way back to the couch. He hesitated in the doorway before returning the the bedside and pressing a tentative kiss to Anakin’s forehead. 

Anakin had been feigning sleep, peaking through one eye like a mischievous child. Curiosity had gotten the best of him in that moment, and his heart thumped so loudly he was worried he’d give himself away. 

The third night was much the same, although rather than screams, Anakin seemed to be crying in his sleep. It was a low, whimpering, pitiful sound, one that was broken and hollow. 

It wrenched at Obi-Wan's heart. He sat next to him on the bed and waited for the younger man to awaken on his own, for fear of startling him and making things worse. 

Anakin came to with a start, still whimpering, sleepy shame permeating their force bond as he realized, with embarrassment, Obi-Wan had been watching him cry. 

“None of that, dear one,” he’d said softly, sitting with him until his breathing evened out. Wrung out, Anakin sighed loudly from his spot, his breath tickling Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan suppressed a smile, watching as his former student slithered back into bed, sleep making his usually graceful movements clumsy and heavy. 

Obi-Wan had stood to take his place on the couch after a time, when he was reasonably certain that Anakin was asleep. 

“Wait,” Anakin murmured softly. Obi-Wan froze, heart hammering in his chest. 

“Yes, dear one?”

Anakin hesitated. 

“Will you stay? I think I might sleep better if- if-“

Anakin flushed, stammering through the sleepy plea. He couldn’t even believe he was asking. He was halfway to perishing the thought with a hurried ‘nevermind’ when Obi-Wan interrupted his thoughts. 

“Alright, alright,” Obi-Wan murmured, taking his place on the far side of the bed, leaving a good deal of space between them. 

“Goodnight.”

————————-

Obi-Wan awoke hazily as the mid morning sun curled through the blinds and fell in long rays across his face. He’d slept much later than he typically did. 

Blinking wearily, he realized that some time in the night, Anakin had curled against his side, and now slept soundly there, snoring quietly. 

He smiled. 

He’d always slept just like that, ever since he was young, curled into a little ball on his side, like a Loth-Cat. 

Now though, Anakin’s head was nuzzled up under Obi-Wan’s chin, making it exceedingly difficult to extricate himself without waking the young knight. 

He gently peeled Anakin off of him, wiggling out from under the man as best he could. Anakin had gotten  _ heavy  _ since the last time they’d so closely occupied the same space, and a pang of nostalgia whistled through him as he looked at the young man sprawled sleepily out on the bed before him. So grown, and grown up so fast, and yet-

He  _ did  _ look so vulnerable just now, Obi-Wan thought, without the lines of worry and frustration creasing his brow. The morning light streamed in through the blinds and made Anakin’s hair seem to glow, haloing his tanned, scarred face. Obi-Wan smiled and resisted the urge to reach out and brush his fingers along the young man’s cheek. 

Obi-Wan tore his eyes away from his cherubic sleeping padawan, carefully and adeptly stepping around the droid parts that littered Anakin’s room. Obi-Wan chuckled, rolling his eyes. Always tinkering. 

Obi-Wan made a silent retreat, planning on making the most of the day he had left. 

  
Anakin awoke some time later, feeling more relaxed and well rested than he had in a good while. The sun was high, and he guessed it was nearly midday. 

He stood and stretched before going to rinse off in the shower. 

He started the water, and began to undress. 

He inhaled deeply. His sleeping clothes smelled of Obi-Wan. He flushed, hazy memories of cozy warmth flooding his senses. He  _ ached  _ for that touch back. 

A shiver ran up his spine as he imagined himself curled up in Obi-Wan’s lap, that deep, clean linen smell permeating all of the air around him. 

He shook his head. 

**_No._ **

**_Jedi_ ** **_aren’t permitted to form attachments._ **

And then too, the training bond they shared was supposed to have been eradicated when he was knighted, and neither of them had said anything about it staying. And yet there it was, as plain as the nose on his face, a golden thread connecting core of his mind and emotions to Obi-Wan. It buzzed and hummed all day, a comfortable familiar aura that he clung to as a child would a security blanket they were not yet ready to relinquish. And anytime he felt uncertain, he would almost instinctively tug at Obi-Wan’s mind, asking for a little reassurance. 

Lately however, finding themselves deployed to the far flung corners of the galaxy, they spent a good deal of time very, very far apart. In recent months, Anakin had felt their connection begin to dull, and he wasn’t sure if it was a result of them being so separated, or an intentional decision on Obi-Wan’s part to begin the technically overdue process of severing their bond. 

Obi-Wan was never the best at verbal affirmation. It left Anakin feeling like his Master secretly resented having him as a student, having been thrust upon him in the moment of tragedy immediately following Jinn’s death. 

He never gave any hint of what he was feeling, Obi-Wan’s signature was always so sturdy and constant. Even in the moments when Obi-Wan was really exasperated with him, he kept those parts hidden from Anakin, and Anakin  _ knew _ Obi-Wan thought him to be a dangerous liability. He had overheard him tell Qui-Gon that when he was only a child. There was always that dark little voice in Anakin’s head telling him that Obi-Wan never really wanted him, and it devastated him. 

It was so hard to tell. Obi-Wan’s force signature always felt so warm and steady, like afternoon lake waters on Naboo. It glowed and hummed with a positive shine, only seldom soured by minor inconveniences and irritations. In those times, it made Anakin laugh. Sometimes he would say or do some obtuse, ridiculous thing, just feel his masters mind flex and spin around it as he tried to ramp down on his irritation. He secretly relished the moments his trick flying would give Obi-Wan vertigo, just so he could feel the dizzy spirals radiate from his mind with an irritated  **_cut it out._ **

And Obi-Wan, well meaning as he was, tortured him with their bond, daily when they were together. He’d brush against the corners of Anakin’s mind like a cat, leaving feather light touches of reassurances and affection. He knew Anakin needed them. And yet everywhere Obi-Wan’s force signature grazed his own, a dull wanton need poured like magma into his belly.

But he needed him to  _ say them.  _ He needed to be able to see his  _ eyes  _ and know he wasn’t just projecting pretty lies in his mind to keep him placated. And at the very least he couldn’t lose the bond they did have. He  _ couldn’t.  _

He chewed his lip. 

Maybe that was why everything felt so overwhelming. They had spent a good deal of time apart, only to be thrown together into a disastrous situation that had left them dependent on each other for survival. (Nothing new there.) He thanked stars Obi-Wan had pulled him into that transport. 

Not that he hadn’t saved Obi-Wan a time or two (or nine) since the war began, but-

He shook his head, the steam curling around his ears. 

Mmm, hot water. He liked his showers nearly unbearably hot. It helped take his mind off things. 

And yet-

It took everything he had not to drape himself over Obi-Wan like a velvet curtain. He craved touch, affection, want. He wanted to to he wanted. Maybe that’s why the idea of losing their bond terrified him. 

The water poured over Anakin’s face and down his back as he tried to push the feeling away. 

He wasn’t permitted to form attachments and he  _ damn  _ sure wasn’t permitted to form them to his master. 

_ He’s only trying to placate me, keep me calm. He thinks I’m reckless, foolish, dangerous,  _ he thought to himself. 

He missed spending day in and day out with his master. 

He remembered being knighted in a rush, due to the Republic needing Jedi Generals to command battalions of clone troopers, and overnight suddenly the man he was used to spending all day with being systems away. The mixed pride and terror his first day as a knight had curled in his stomach like a vine snake, but he had pushed it down and beamed, and felt Obi-Wan’s pride sear through their bond. 

Anakin imagined the feel of Obi-Wans lips against his temple and he nearly whimpered.  _ Proud of me,  _ he thought. He imagined those lips moving their way down his jaw to his throat, and he whined, letting the hot water pour over his body. 

**_I can’t._ **

A shiver rippled down his spine all the way to his toes, despite the hot water. 

He imagined Obi-Wan’s lips at his throat, his hands at his waist, his- 

He whined, arousal pounding low in his belly and between his legs. 

He trailed his hands down the tanned planes of his torso, chewing his lip at the sensation. 

Imagining they were  _ Obi-Wan’s hands.  _

His cock twitched at the thought, and he gasped, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. 

He lazily wrapped a hand around his length, remembering the feeling of Obi-Wan’s lips against his temple, so chaste, and yet-

_ He imagined Obi-Wan pulling him into his lap and running his warm calloused hands over his thighs, his beard tickling Anakin's cheek as he whispered into his ear  _

_ “Dear one, my good boy-“  _

Anakin gasped, quickening his pace. 

**_No. I...can’t. Not to...Obi-Wan..._ **

But he couldn’t stop. His whole body sung with electricity at the thought. It was  _ so wrong _ , and for some reason that made it feel so forbidden and-and 

He  _ loved  _ Obi-Wan. Maker, he  _ loved him.  _ Stars, he wasn’t allowed to love him, but all he could think of was Obi holding him and rolling his hips into him and-

He came with a wrung out moan, gasping as he braced his arm against the wall of the shower. His knees wobbled and his head swam with the thick realization that he had just brought himself off to the thought of his master- the thought of Obi-Wan…

He shook his head, heat flooding his cheeks as he rinsed himself off. No no  _ no.  _

He had to get this out of his head. 

He donned his robes and decided he would go and meditate in a quiet place in the temple. Somewhere that didn’t smell like Obi-Wan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for chapter 3! Chapter 3 will likely wrap this story up, but we shall see.  
> As always, follow me on tumblr @dankmemes-of-dantooine for more. Thanks all!


	3. What Comes Next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know I left you hanging in that last chapter. 😜 Well I’m back to torture our favorite two Jedi a little more today. This fic has gotten away from me. I think it’ll end up being four chapters after all. Good grief. Hope you enjoy!

He stalked quickly to the meditation garden, unwilling to meet the gaze of anyone he passed in the hall. He’d just come from the shower, but he felt sort of dirty, and it seemed as though he had “dear Maker, unfortunately, I’d like to fuck Obi-Wan, I think,” tattooed on his forehead. 

“Skywalker,” Mace greeted him darkly as he passed him in the hall and he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Mace grinned, always happy to haze the young spitfire. 

“Master Windu,” he managed in a high,thin voice, hurrying out the door into the garden.

He quickly found a warm spot in the garden and composed himself, set to meditate and focus and get this feeling out of his head. The garden was filled with fragrant flowers and beautiful statues paying homage to the masters who had passed on, so he tried to focus on those things instead. 

Everytime he closed his eyes though, he saw one of two things that petrified him in two entirely separate ways. 

He saw either the shattered corpses of his men decorating the ruined battlefield, or he saw Obi-Wan, looking warmly up at him from between his thighs, his kind, knowing eyes melting him into a puddle. 

He huffed, trying desperately to push those thoughts out of his head. His mind was so _loud_ and it seemed like the only time he got any reprieve at all was when he was being held, kissed, something that disrupted the electrical storm of thought that constantly raged in his overworked mind. 

He had always been affectionate as a child, and he remembered back to sharing hugs with the other slave children his age. 

He clung to his mother’s legs _constantly_ and she’d have to peel him off from time to time just so she could get her work done. Though he was an adventurous and very independent child, he thrived on touch and little caresses. 

He remembered sharing his first kiss with a little Twi’lek girl in his youngling class. He had been the fascination of many of his young classmates, with rumors of him being the chosen one swirling around the temple. 

He had to rush to play catch up, seeing as how he was much older than most initiates. He was placed in a class with other youngling his age, but most of them had several years of training by that point. 

One afternoon after saber practice, the little Twi’lek (her name was Gida, and she was beautiful. Still was, Anakin thought with a chuckle. She was hoping to be promoted to knight very soon.) had run up to him, grabbed him by the face and placed a smooshed, chaste kiss right on his lips. 

He had reddened as she smiled and ran off, but for a singular moment, his mind had stilled. He had been about thirteen then. 

“Hello there, padawan of mine,” 

Anakin was ripped from his meditative reverie by the cheerful voice of his master chirping in his ears. 

His eyes flew open and he was immediately grounded in reality, heart thumping wildly. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Obi-Wan said quietly, taking a seat next to Anakin. 

Anakin swallowed thickly. 

“Quite alright, Master,” he said quietly, willing his heartbeat to slow, “I trust you had a pleasant morning?”

He inhaled deeply. 

Obi-Wan smiled, closing his eyes. 

“I did. I met with the council to see if they know anything more about our informant. They don’t,” his voice was tinged with a mild distaste he reserved only for Anakin’s benefit. Secretly, Obi-Wan wasn't overly fond of the council either, but he kept that to himself except on the rare occasion he let it slip merely for the entertainment of his friend. 

“And then I met with Ahsoka, for saber practice,”

“I thought she had the week off,” Anakin murmured, shaking his head, eyes still closed. 

“You know she doesn’t take days off,” Obi-Wan grinned. 

Anakin let the corner of his mouth curl into a smile. 

“She comes by it honest.”

“Anyhow I trust you had a pleasant morning? You smell clean.”

Anakin nearly choked. 

“I er-um yes. I slept rather late. And then showered. And then I ca-ame here,” he staggered over the words, hoping Obi-Wan didn’t notice. 

“Very well. I should think you needed the rest.”

Anakin’s breath caught. 

“I uh- yes. Thank you, by the way. For-“

“Not a problem,” Obi-Wan hummed, “happy to help. Sleep is important.”

Images from the night previous flashed into Anakin's mind, the warmth, the closeness, and then a sleepy memory, Obi-Wan untangling himself from Anakin’s sleepy grip early this morning. 

They flashed across their bond into his mind in quick succession, before he had an opportunity to throw up a mental wall. 

“ _Oh._ I’m s-sorry,” he squeaked, embarrassment clawing at his gut.

He wanted to crawl into a hole. He had wrapped himself around Obi-Wan like a vine this morning, and his master had be kind a polite enough to not make a fuss about it at _all._ And he wouldn’t have even _known_ if not for that lax moment of carelessness on Obi-Wan’s part. Did he show him that on purpose? He would’ve _had to._

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, placing a reassuring hand on his knee, 

“I’m happy to help.”

Cold sparks shot up from the place where Obi-Wan’s hand rested on his knee, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He recoiled, shrinking back from the touch. Did he know what he was doing?

“Are you feeling unwell?” Obi-Wan said with concern, finally opening his eyes. 

“No, Master, I’m fine. I’m- I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Anakin rose to his feet, shivering as his Master’s hand fell from his knee. 

———————-

He paced the floor of his apartment, completely lost for ideas about what to do. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Obi-Wan. About him holding him, about him pulling him onto the transport. His eyes, his voice, everything. 

And he was set to come over to spend the night again, because Anakin had asked him to yesterday. 

_Kriff._

They were falling into a routine that was becoming too comfortable. At best- the floor would be ripped out from under him again in a few weeks when their units were deployed again. Worst case- something...happened… between the two of them. 

_No._ He couldn’t even entertain that thought. Anakin’s thoughts became ideas, and ideas were so ready to become plans. 

And Anakin was _adroit_ at executing plans. 

This couldn’t become a plan. 

His thoughts were interrupted by three short knocks. 

He swallowed hard, hesitating before swishing the door open with a flick of his wrist. 

“Inappropriate-“

“Yeah,” he said hurriedly, swallowing thickly, stalking back to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

He heard Obi-Wan follow him. 

“Are you feeling alright? You seem...agitated.”

Anakin’s jaw worked in nervous frustration as he poured himself a glass of water. His mental walls were _durasteel_ , a panicked effort to shut Obi-Wan out of the intrusive arousal churning in his mind. 

“I’m fine, Master,” he grit. 

“You’re very closed off in the force,” Obi Wan remarked with some concern, “are you in pain?”

“No Obi-Wan, I’m fine.” 

He felt Obi-Wans featherlight signature brush against his mind. 

**_Anakin, please._**

“Is it your hand?” 

Anakin glanced down at his injured hand, which was beginning to heal rather nicely, he noticed. He flexed it a few times.

Frankly, he’d forgotten he hurt it. 

Obi-Wan was just guessing at this point, and Anakin could feel the mild discomfort and confusion Obi-Wan was letting curl into their bond. He was hurt. Obi-Wan thought he was mad at him. He sort of was. 

“No, my hand is fine,” Anakin nearly growled, swallowing large mouthfuls of water, any attempt to cool himself off. 

Obi-Wan was beginning to get irritated. 

“I wish you wouldn’t have me guess. If you’re going to be so _obviously_ irritated with me, you should at least afford me the decency to tell me _why.”_

“Oh you can’t be _serious,” Anakin spat, exasperated._

Anakin’s jaw worked with irritation, and he spun to face him. 

“I’m always so _obvious_ about how I feel Obi-Wan? I’m sorry not all of us can be stone walls like _you.”_

His voice dripped with venom as he stalked past his Master, heart hammering in his ears. 

“Anakin-“

“ _Spare me,_ Obi-Wan. You’ve spent all week dancing around the fact that you think I’m reckless and dangerous because I can’t control my feelings,” he was trying so desperately not to raise his voice at his master, but the force flowed through him so strongly, especially when he was upset. 

“Anakin, I never _lie_ to you! If I thought you ought to be reprimanded, don’t you think I would’ve done it?”

Obi-Wan strode after him, determined to face him if he was going to argue with him. 

“I don’t know, _Master_ , I would’ve thought you would’ve _wept_ when your master died too, but you didn’t even _care._ I thought you would’ve _told me_ you were proud of me when I was knighted but you _didn’t care.”_

Anakin was taking no prisoners, and he knew what he’d said would cut Obi-Wan. It was an accusation, but it was true, it was like Obi-Wan couldn’t be bothered to care enough about anyone to be upset or proud about _anything._ Not in a way that anyone could see, anyways. 

Anakin’s lower lip folded and quivered and he swallowed back the urge to cry, turning his face away from his former master. 

Obi-Wan shook his head incredulously, swallowing the flare of anger and hurt that surged in his chest, but not before Anakin felt the fiery glow sear across their bond. 

“I _did_ cry Anakin. I did. Just not in front of you.”

His voice was soft and broken.

“I _am_ proud of you. I thought you knew that.”

The several feet separating the men suddenly felt like a light year. 

The tight coiled spring of temper within Anakin unwound instantly. He felt cold, hollow, guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan offered softly, taking a small step towards closing the gap between them,

“I didn’t want you to see me grieve. It was wrong, a bad example. I’d been a knight for a _day,_ I was so young and foolish, Anakin, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Anakin swallowed against the heavy guilty tears welling in the corners of his eyes. 

“Master-“

He didn’t turn around, because he could imagine how Obi-Wan looked just then, and he was afraid seeing him like that would have him crying again. 

“I wasn’t ready to train you, but I did my best. I made _mistakes._ Please don’t hate me for what I didn’t know.”

Obi-Wans voice was thin, and quiet, with none of the strong warmth Anakin had come to expect from it. He was _begging._ Obi-Wan didn’t beg. 

He still didn’t face him, eyes trained on a far place on the horizon that he gazed at out the window. 

“Won’t you at least _look at me?”_ Obi-Wan pleaded, his voice breaking on the last word. 

**_Ani. Please._**

The affectionate nickname tugged at the walls in his mind, begging entrance. It made Anakin’s heart thud _hard_ , and he swallowed against the knot in his throat as he turned to finally look his former master in the eye. 

Obi-Wan looked ruined. His eyes were dark, tired from not sleeping the last several nights he’d been up with Anakin. They were red rimmed too, and a single tear spilled down his cheek, that the older man quickly wiped away. 

Obi-Wan breathed deeply, closing his eyes slowly. 

“I cared about Dozer, too. I care about  _ you.  _ I was frightened when I saw you surrounded by droids on the battlefield. I’m frightened  _ everytime _ I see you like that. I’m not devoid of feelings, I just have more practice than you at addressing them.”

Anakin had not seen Obi-Wan this wrung out in years. It throttled him. He felt so selfish and greedy for expecting so much of him. 

Anakin didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. 

“I wish I had the words you needed. I  _ know  _ you need them. I’ve failed you. I was not ready to teach when I still had so much left to learn.”

Those words crashed over Anakin and swirled around him, stripping him raw. He felt like he was in a sand storm back home, getting absolutely sandblasted by the words he said. But he wasn’t, he was in his apartment in the temple, standing in front of Obi-Wan with his mouth hanging open like some dumb bantha.

Anakin closed the space between them as Obi-Wan took an unsteady breath. 

Anakin pulled him into a tight embrace, and Obi-Wan let the younger, taller man, awkwardly tuck his head under his chin. 

Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet. 

“I  _ do  _ care about you, dear one. I  _ do.” _

They stayed like that for a moment, before Anakin pulled away. 

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

Anakin chewed his cheek. 

“I shouldn’t have said those things-“

“I understand why you did.” 

Anakin looked at the floor, shaking his head. Their guilt vied for dominance over their force bond. It felt a little like 

**_I’m sorry_ **

**_No, I’m sorry_ **

**_No, I’M sorry_ **

_**No I’m-** _

  
A constant feedback loop of apology, humming across their minds.

“Why are you so patient with me?”

Obi-Wan paused. “I care for you.”

Anakin looked up at him, eyes burning deep, feeling his hands shake. 

“Do you?” Anakin was looking at the floor again. 

Obi-Wan was exhausted. 

“Anakin, of course I do, you ridiculous-“

“Why did you kiss me?” Anakin’s voice had more edge to it than he intended. He hadn’t even meant to say it. 

“ _ What _ ?” 

“Why did you kiss me the other night?”

“You  _ asked  _ me to!” Obi-Wan threw his hands up in exasperation, and Anakin reached out and caught his left wrist. 

Obi-Wan looked at him for a moment, confusion, exasperation, and exhaustion cycling through his features. 

Anakin just kept his eyes trained on Obi-Wans as he brought Obi-Wan’s hand up to his own cheek and nuzzled into it. 

“Anakin-“ Obi-Wan had started to roll his eyes. 

Anakin turned and placed a soft kiss onto his master’s palm. 

Obi-Wan’s breath caught and he seemed frozen to the spot. Anakin wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him so still.

Anakin’s eyes plead with him, begging for Obi-Wan to say something, do  _ something, anything!  _ Reciprocate, yell at him, storm out and never speak to him again, anything but stand there and continue to just stare at him with those bottomless ocean eyes. 

Anakin kissed his palm again, still searching for any response, any feedback, any reprimand, anything. 

The air was so thick. 

**_Master please-_ **

Obi-Wan placed his other hand on Anakin’s cheek and pulled his forehead to his lips, placing a kiss there, and then on the bridge of his nose, and then his cheek. 

Anakin’s eyes fluttered closed and his breath caught as Obi-Wan placed his forehead on his. 

“Dear one-“ 

Anakin swallowed thickly against the urge to completely envelope Obi-Wan. The air around them hummed with electricity, and it felt as though at any moment the two of them might burst into flame. 

Anakin tilted his head forward the slightest bit, brushing his lips against his master’s. Obi-Wan didn’t move away. Obi-Wan didn’t breathe. 

He brought his hand up to Obi-Wan’s face and begged him a little closer, placing an experimental featherlight kiss on his lips. 

Obi-Wan reciprocated, much to Anakin’s mixed horror and delight, and he felt like he was being shocked for the couple of seconds the kiss lasted. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so yeah, I left you on another cliff hanger. I know. I am fully dark side. Just know I’m updating soon with all the tragic smutty goodness that is Obikin. Pop on over to @dankmemes-of-dantooine to send me requests!


	4. No really, What Next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for- the fluffy smut. 
> 
> Readers- this is literally the first vaguely smut related thing I’ve ever written. Do go easy on me.  
> With that being said- let’s dive right in to me torturing my two favorite Jedi. 
> 
> You’ve been warned- turn back if you don’t wanna read smut!

He nearly whined when he made himself pull away. 

“Obi-Wan,”

“Dear one, we can’t.” Obi-Wans lips were still millimeters away from Anakin’s, and he could  _ feel  _ his words nearly more than he could hear them. 

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut against a silent tear that escaped down his cheek. He swallowed hard as Obi-Wan wiped it away with his thumb before diving in for another kiss. 

Anakin was confused and shocked to say the least, but he wasn’t complaining. 

“Obi...Wan?” He tried between kisses, as his master pulled him close. Anakin felt as though Obi-Wan sucked the air right out of his lungs. 

He shook his head, threading his fingers with Obi-Wan’s as he pulled his master’s hand from his face so he had a breath of a moment to think. 

“Master, we can’t,” he started softly. His head was swimming and he felt dizzy, so he crossed the room lowered himself to the couch. Obi-Wan followed, heart hammering, and took a seat next to him. 

Anakin gazed at Obi-Wan with heady want, before placing his head on the older Jedi’s shoulder. 

“Obi-Wan, I was so worried... that you were going to sever our bond,” Anakin whispered, letting the hurt and want flow into their bond. 

Obi-Wan tensed. 

“What? Why? I- never said I would-“

“It’s the Code, Master, we aren’t supposed to-“

“Oh,  _ hang  _ the Code!”

“Master!” Anakin said with teasing faux shock, a wry smile curling across his lips. 

“The Code made me act in ways that made you doubt my care for you. The Code sewed fear in you. The code-“

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched as Anakin pressed a kiss to his collarbone, and then his neck. 

“Keep telling me about the Code, Master,” he murmured into the flesh there. He fished for his master’s hand, threading their fingers together when he found it. 

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, rubbing his thumb across the back of Anakin’s hand. 

“The Code...the Council... certainly wouldn’t approve of this,” he said, seeming to contemplate what deep trouble he’d gotten himself into. 

Anakin laughed into Obi-Wan’s neck, the vibrations making goosebumps erupt across his skin.

Obi-Wan wound his fingers into Anakin’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Anakin sighed into his neck as he moved his lips down to his collarbones. 

“The Code...doesn’t forbid, compassion you know. Only...ah- attachment,” Obi-Wan continued, inhaling sharply as Anakin nipped at his neck. 

Anakin pulled back to look at him, heart suddenly feeling like it had fallen right out of his chest. 

“What do you mean by that, Master?” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes were wanton and half lidded, cheeks flushed. 

He placed a hand on Anakin’s cheek and begged him closer. 

“It does not forbid us to love.”

Anakin’s brain buzzed like a broken droid. 

“You don’t- do you  _ love _ me, Master?” he swallowed hard, staring intently at the older man. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I do, you silly-“

Anakin cut him off, throwing a leg over him and sliding into his lap and pulling him forward by his lapels. 

Obi-Wan made a surprised sound but did not protest. 

Their lips crashed together so hard that their teeth clacked, and Obi-Wan made a sound of discomfort. Anakin brushed an apology along their force bond, burying his hands in Obi-Wan’s hair, soothing, massaging,  _ touching.  _

**_I love you, Master, I love you. I-_ **

Obi-Wan brought a hand up to Anakin’s waist and Anakin nearly fainted. 

Obi-Wan felt the red hot flash though the force bond and gently broke the kiss. 

“Slow, dear one. Easy,” he cooed, allowing Anakin another short kiss. 

“There’s no rush.” 

But, yes there was. Anakin hadn’t  _ stopped  _ thinking of putting his hands all over Obi-Wan since he pulled him into that transport. There was nothing  _ but  _ rush. He couldn’t get close enough to Obi-Wan to satisfy him.

Anakin places frantic kisses over Obi-Wan’s face, and the older man laughed, bringing another hand to Anakin’s waist to still him. 

Anakin’s hips rolled nearly involuntarily, bringing a hot flush to both of their faces. 

“S-sorry,” he stammered, looking away, embarrassed. 

“Slow, love,” Obi-Wan murmured into Anakin’s ear. 

Anakin gasped at the feeling of his breath, tilting his head back with a frustrated whine. 

Obi-Wan took this as an invitation. He placed a gentle kiss at the junction of the younger man’s jaw and throat. Anakin let out a surprised moan, immediately growing warm and bringing his hand to his mouth. 

“What a pretty noise,” Obi-Wan remarked fondly, kissing him there again. 

Anakin bit down on the heel of his palm to keep from issuing another obscene sound. He hadn’t realized he was so  _ vocal  _ and then again, he didn’t exactly find himself in situations such as these all too often. 

“No no,” Obi-Wan murmured, threading his fingers with Anakin’s and bringing his hand to his mouth to kiss, 

“I’d like to hear you.”

Anakin’s head was swimming, his pulse hammering so loud in his ears he could barely hear himself think. 

This was  _ so embarrassing  _ and yet at the same time the very thing he had found himself fantasizing about. 

Anakin bit his lip, shaking his head in protest. 

Obi-Wan only laughed, tugging Anakin’s head back by his hair and placing a rough kiss on his throat. 

Anakin  _ sobbed  _ out a moan, a thick, raunchy sound, that tore itself from his chest of its own will and volition. 

White hot need seared down the center of his body and made him feel like a wild animal. He rolled his hips again, biting down so hard on his lip he tasted blood. 

Obi-Wan took and turned him suddenly, so that Anakin was in his lap with his back to Obi-Wan’s chest. He placed a hand on each of Anakin’s knees. 

Anakin’s brain had, at this point, progressed passed short circuiting to a full on mech fire. There was no rhyme. There was not reasonability. There was fire. 

_ I imagined this. Does he know I imagined this? I saw this. I want this I want this I want this.  _

Obi-Wan chuckled, moving his hands up the younger man’s thighs. 

“You didn’t just imagine it, dear one, you dreamed it,”  Obi-Wan was  _ purring, _

_ “ _ and your dreams are so very  _ loud.” _

Anakin whimpered, digging his own hands into his thighs. Obi-Wan kissed his neck, rubbing his hands up Anakin’s thighs. Suddenly his pants felt  _ so tight  _ and everything was so hot, and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was panting.  
He was feral. And Obi-Wan’s hands were so warm and so gentle and so  _ slow,  _ and 

_ Ohhh.  _

“Ma-aster,” he grit out in a shaky groan and Obi-Wan  _ palmed  _ him through his pants. His lips were still on his neck and his beard was scratching him, but  _ oh it was - _

“My  _ my,”  _ Obi-Wan crooned, mercilessly teasing him,

“What have we here?”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin grit his teeth, arching his back. 

“Someone is very eager,” Obi-Wan mouthed into his ear, so quiet Anakin couldn’t even be sure he heard it. 

Anakin’s jaw tensed so hard he thought his teeth might shatter. 

“Please, oh-“

He rolled his hips forward desperately, but Obi-Wan moved his hands up to Anakin’s stomach. 

Anakin could  _ cry.  _ His insides were on  _ fire _ , his brain was totally melted, and he was as hard as he had ever been in his entire existence, as far as he could remember. And Obi-Wan was  _ tormenting him.  _

“Obi-Wan, please,” he begged in a shaky whisper. 

“Oh, patience, dear one,” he murmured into Anakin’s neck. He pressed a chaste kiss there before unbuttoning Anakin’s trousers. 

Anakin nearly  _ screamed.  _ Instead, he bit back the sound, squirming, a series of needy gasps reverberating throughout the room. 

“Shh, easy,” Obi-Wan murmured, gently freeing Anakin’s erection from is pants. 

Anakin couldn’t breathe. A strangled hiccuping sound escaped his lips and he tensed up, freezing. 

**_We can stop, dear one._ **

Obi-Wan’s concerned voice echoed through their bond. 

**_I will literally kill you if you stop._ **

Obi-Wan laughed in earnest, moving his hands to instead rub Anakin’s back. 

“Relax,” he murmured. 

Anakin tried to still his mind, sighing softly. His heart hammered hard in his chest. He couldn’t help but feel like at any moment they’d be caught and punished and for some reason that made it  _ better.  _ He let out a slow breath 

“There you are, dear one. Now then. Shh,” Obi-Wan soothed, rubbing his hands up Anakin’s thighs again. 

“Oh, you’re trembling.”

And he was, every fiber in Anakin’s being was  _ vibrating,  _ and he was surprised his teeth weren’t chattering. 

Obi-Wan pressed a gentle reassuring kiss to Anakin’s shoulder, before shifting hands to Anakin’s waist. He rolled his hips under him. 

Anakin let out a strangled cry, arching his back. 

Obi-Wan resumed rubbing up and down Anakin’s thighs, placing chaste kisses along his jaw. 

“That’s it, dear one, oh,  _ good man,”  _

Anakin’s cock twitched and he groaned, rolling his hips up into nothing, wrung out and frustrated. 

Suddenly Obi-Wan patted his thigh, shifting under him. 

“Up.”

“ _ What?” _

_ What in three Sith Hells? Was this a joke? _

_ “ _ Up, up.” He said, pitching Anakin out of his lap. 

Anakin, annoyed, struggled to tuck himself back into his pants before being unceremoniously removed from his seat in his Master’s lap. 

“Hey, where are you-“

“Bedroom,” he said simply, expecting Anakin to follow. 

Anakin’s annoyance was replaced with dumb lust, and he nearly drooled as he scrambled after Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan climbed onto Anakin’s bed, patting his lap again, indicating for Anakin to take his place there again. 

The evening sun was setting, and the angel had amber light pouring through the window, blinding Obi-Wan. 

He lazily flicked his wrist and drew the blinds, sending the room into a much dimmer, yet warmer atmosphere instantly. 

“Hey inappropriate use...of the force…” 

Anakin trailed off when he saw how intensely and patiently Obi-Wan was waiting for him to  _ crawl into his lap.  _

He felt scandalized and horrified, those feelings compounded by the throbbing between his legs that reminded him  _ hey brainless, you started this.  _

Obi-Wan had shed his outer robes and jerkin when he’d entered the room, so Anakin followed suit, leaving him in just his undershirt and pants. 

He slid into Obi-Wan’s lap, placing a shy kiss to his ex master’s cheek as Obi-Wan pulled Anakin back to be flush with his chest. He resumed kissing him, tracing shapes into the younger man’s thighs. 

Anakin relished the touch, arching into it like a needy pet. 

“I hope you’ll indulge me in making up for lost time,” Obi-Wan purred, palming Anakin through his pants again. Anakin shifted his hips up to meet the hand, but Obi-Wan torturously moved it away. 

Anakin bit down on his lip, panting. 

“I feel rotten, you seem so starved for touch,” Obi-Wan said gently. 

Anakin’s cheeks flamed. 

It was true. It had been ages since anyone had touched him at all, and he wasn’t sure he’d  _ ever  _ been touched like this. He was embarrassed to admit that he was pitifully under experienced in that department, although he suspected it was much the same for many Jedi. That or, he was adhering strictly to the code for no reason while everyone else was secretly humping like womp rats. Based on the way his ex master was handling him right now, he felt that both were equally plausible. 

“Obi-Wan,” he croaked, and was rewarded with a tender kiss to the neck. 

“You’ve not been up to  _ any  _ shenanigans during the war? So many willing young girls who would be  _ happy  _ to please a General, I’d think. You didn’t indulge a one of them?”

Anakin shook his head and swallowed against the molten glass flaming in his throat. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He’d been so strict, no distractions, not even a chance to break the code. He’d had to. Give himself an inch and he’d take a mile, as made evident by his current predicament. 

“What about the young senator?” 

Padmé, and he had thought about her at length. But  _ no, _ not once he was knighted. There were too many important things. And he burned too fiercely to not form attachments. 

He shook his head again, drawing his lip between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“ _ Oh,  _ you poor, sweet thing. What a  _ good boy  _ you’ve been. It must’ve been  _ agony _ .”

Anakin gasped wetly, arching his back. Obi-Wan held his thighs firmly in place, freeing him from his pants again. 

Anakin nearly fainted. 

He mercifully took the length of him in his hand, rubbing experimentally. 

Anakin bit back a sob, throwing his head back in a silent beg for kisses on his throat. He needed every inch of his searing skin touched. 

Obi-Wan set a steady, gentle pace, hands working him. He obliged Anakin’s silent request, pressing a few gentle kisses to his neck. 

Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s erection pressed into this small of his back and it was absolutely mind boggling. He couldn’t believe that Obi-Wan actually wanted this. Wanted  _ him.  _

Obi-Wan laughed, feeling his doubts through their bond. 

“You’re such a silly thing sometimes, you know that?”

He pressed a kiss to Anakin’s temple, still working at ruining him. Anakin writhed, fingers gripping the bedsheets. 

“You’re brilliant, and so compassionate. And you’re an excellent pilot, so I know when you make me sick you’re doing it on purpose,” he hummed into Anakin’s ear. Anakin tried to laugh but it was punctured, uneven sound as Obi-Wan picked up pace. Anakin squirmed at the increased friction, but said nothing. He didn’t want this to stop. 

“No one is a better fighter than you, and I’d not like to be stuck against you in battle,” he breathed, pressing kisses along the younger man’s jaw. Anakin was putty.   
  


“You’re absolutely beautiful, even when you’re scowling at me. I can’t bear to stay upset with you.”   
Anakin whimpered, and Obi-Wan caught the sound in his mouth, pushing the young Jedi’s hair from his face gently.

“You complain, but never about the things that are actually bothering you. For example, right now-“

He stopped suddenly, causing Anakin to whine. 

Obi-Wan brought his hand up near Anakin’s mouth. 

“Spit,” he demanded softly. 

Anakin couldn’t even look at him because those words didn’t even make sense in his brain right then. They were  _ horrifying.  _ He couldn’t even believe Obi-Wan  _ said  _ that. 

**_Master I can’t ...spit in your hand._ **

“I’m not asking.” His voice was firm but patient, and Anakin knew by the way that he said it, Obi-Wan knew he’d obey him. 

**_Mind me._ **

Scandalized, Anakin obliged him, spitting into his master’s hand as his cheeks burned. It felt desperately wrong. He looked up at his master through his eyelashes, seeking the approval that he’d done the correct thing. 

“Good little dear,” Obi-Wan purred, returning to his ministrations. Anakin whined at the new slicker sensation. It was so much  _ better.  _

Obi-Wan rolled his hips under Anakin again, earning him a loud moan. 

He smiled. 

“I find it pleasantly ironic that this is the only way I can get you to mind me,” Obi-Wan smiled, “but you’ve been so good for me this evening. 

Anakin groaned, bucking his hips. 

“You do like that much more than I thought. Being praised? I’m so sorry I denied you that. You’ve been a wonderful, beautiful thing. You are so good, Ani.”

Anakin’s pleasure was mounting quickly, he realized. He started panicking and tensed. Was he supposed to? No, I mean, he couldn’t. 

“Master I-“ 

“Shh. You’re doing so well.”

“I- if you keep touching me, I’m going- going to-“

Anakin’s face was  _ flaming.  _ His abs were taut and tense with the effort of not unraveling. Sweat poured down his back in rivulets, he was  _ ruined.  _

“Come in my hand? I know dear one,” Obi-Wan chuckled good naturedly, “that's why I’m doing this.”

Anakin was  _ absolutely humiliated.  _ He couldn’t  _ come  _ in Obi-Wan’s hand. The very idea of it made him dizzy. 

“Master, please, I can’t-“

“Don’t be silly,” Obi-Wan whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Anakin’s cheek. 

Anakin grit his teeth, fighting against the ball of pleasure swirling in his belly. 

“I have an idea,” Obi-Wan pulled Anakin to his chest and kissed him before having him turn around to face him, straddling his lap. 

He placed a hand on the back of Anakin’s neck, pulling him forward to kiss him. 

Anakin was needy, and received him well, tugging at Obi-Wan’s lip with his teeth. Obi-Wan pressed their foreheads together. 

“Would you be less embarrassed,” Obi-Wan murmured between kisses, “if I came in yours?”

Anakin’s vision blacked out for a moment, before he silently, dumbly nodded. His hands were shaking. Maker, this couldn’t be real. He blinked quickly, doing his best to stay cognizant of his surroundings.

Obi-Wan unbuttoned his pants, freeing the whole length of him. 

Anakin swallowed hard. 

He had known Obi-Wan many years, they’d changed clothes in front of one another, he’d seen him nude before. But he had never seen it  _ hard.  _

It was a dizzy feeling. 

He didn’t have much time to consider it. 

Obi-Wan took Anakin's hand and brought it to his lips to place a gentle kiss on his palm, before gently guiding his hand towards his throbbing loins. 

“There,” Obi-Wan breathed, kissing Anakin softly. 

Anakin, for all his usual overconfidence, wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never touched someone  _ else  _ like this before. And he wanted it to be  _ good.  _ He knew what  _ he  _ liked but Obi-Wan was so refined and high brow, and

Obi-Wan sensed his conflict and smiled. 

“It’s okay, I’ll show you,” he murmured, placing his hand over Anakin’s and setting a steady rhythm. He rolled his hips into the younger man’s hand and moaned softly. 

“There you are, dear one, just like that,” he groaned, replacing his hand on Anakin’s length. It twitched with the sudden contact and Obi-Wan set a pace similar to Anakin’s. 

Meanwhile, Anakin’s mind was frying. He couldn’t believe he was straddling his master’s lap, and they were in here moaning into one another’s mouths with each other’s  _ cocks  _ in their hands. It was totally apart from reason in his mind. And the fact that he likely could’ve had this the first moment he asked agonized him. 

“Bit faster, love?” Obi-Wan requested with breathless politeness, rolling his hips. 

Anakin gasped and did his best to oblige, earning him a wrung out moan from his master. 

The sound went straight to the core of him. He was making his master  _ feel good.  _

“Ah, thank you. Yes, well  _ done,”  _ Obi-Wan praised. 

Obi-Wan quickened his pace in kind, and Anakin keened. Obi-Wan caught the sound with his mouth. 

“Master, Obi, I- I,”

Anakin was stammering nonsense, thighs shaking. 

“Shh, can you come for me, dear one?” 

Anakin whined, tucking his chin to his chest. He couldn’t t look at Obi-Wan, not when he was saying things like  _ that.  _

Obi-Wan lifted his chin and made him look him in the eye. 

“Now, dear one. Come in my hand.”

Anakin made the mistake of looking down between them and  _ watching _ . He came unraveled instantly, distantly mortified as he watched his spend coat his master’s fingers. 

Anakin keened, burying his head in Obi-Wan’s shoulder to suppress the sound. 

Obi-Wan stroked him through it, and Anakin was quickly becoming overstimulated. 

Obi-Wan covered Anakin’s hand with his own, took the length of both of them together, stroking them both off. The sensation of closeness made the both of them moan together, a chorus of wrung out, overdue pleasure. 

“Too much, Master, too much,” Anakin whimpered at the sensation. He swatted weakly at his master's hand. He was totally spent, and he hadn’t even been given reprieve to process the fact that his  _ come  _ was all over both of their hands and their pants. 

“L-love you, love you, Master,” he whimpered, vision going blurry. He nuzzled into his beloved’s shoulder. 

The admission hit Obi-Wan hard and fast, from underneath, like a sea beast taking its prey. Electricity pounded over their force bond. 

Obi-Wan gripped Anakin’s shoulders hard, coming with a punched out moan. 

They sat a moment, panting against one another, before Obi-Wan lay back against the bed, pulling Anakin with him so his head lay on Obi-Wan’s chest. 

Anakin was trembling, the exhaustion of being teased and overstimulated washing over him. His master held him tight, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he shushed him.

“I know, that was a lot. You did so well.” 

Anakin was nearly  _ unconscious  _ but Obi-Wan felt him sending appreciation and love over their force bond. It thrummed stronger than it had in months. He was being so open and genuine and vulnerable 

Obi-Wan floated a towel from the ‘fresher over to him, cleaning them up before raising a hand to pick through Anakin’s hair and massage his scalp. 

“Inappropriate use-“ Anakin’s muffled voice came rumbling against his chest.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan laughed. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of Anakin’s head, smoothing his honey silk curls back from his face. 

They were quiet for a time, just enjoying existing together for a moment. Their bond was glowing, and it felt like their force signatures were gossiping with one another. Their minds were so inextricable from one another in that moment. 

“I love you, Master,” Anakin purred from his spot, curled against Obi-Wan like a boneless, sleepy little womp rat. He was totaled. Completely blissed out. Obi-Wan chuckled. 

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin’s heart fell for a moment before he followed it with, “and I, you.”

“What do we do now?” His padawan’s muffled, vulnerable voice reverberated through his chest. 

“Have the best sleep of our lives, I hope.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for joining me on this crazy ride. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, and the first of its kind for me. I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Once again, finally, if you’d like to send me fic requests, please join me on tumblr @dankmemes-of-dantooine. Thanks, loves!


End file.
